


Those Who Seek Shelter

by Allain_Kelyarus



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Weather, Brotherly Love, But it's for the right reason, Gen, Lowkey "Kidnapping", Mutant!Little Brother, Sick Character, male!reader, vague medical stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 03:44:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15548868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allain_Kelyarus/pseuds/Allain_Kelyarus
Summary: Your little brother, a four-year-old mutant, has been sick for the past two months. Your parents don’t want to take him to the hospital because they don’t want it getting out that their son is a mutant. After doing your best to look after him as well as keep up with school you decide enough is enough and use the allowance you’ve been saving up and take the bus to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters to ask them for help.





	Those Who Seek Shelter

The weather has taken turn for the worse and as you exit the bus you’ve been on for the past several hours you take care to ensure your little brother is bundled up even tighter. You briefly consider wrapping him in your jacket as well, but you decide to wait and if the weather gets even worse then you’ll give him your jacket.

Ignoring the looks of the other people at the bus terminal you go over to the bus route brochure rack to find a bus that’ll get you as close to Xavier’s as possible. The weather only seems to be getting worse and your brother is already sick. You don’t want to risk having him try to stand by himself, so you adjust your hold to look through the brochures with one hand. His little whimper at the movement tears another hole into your heart. How could your parents let things get this bad?

Once again you reassure yourself that you’re doing the right thing. After all, it’s obvious to you your brother doesn’t have a regular illness. There has to be something else wrong with him. He needs to see a professional no matter how much your parents have denied it.

Having found the closest bus stop to Xavier’s you head to the seats near the display board that shows the time for your bus. Looking at the clock you’re going to have to wait an hour for the next one. There are a few other people seated on the benches, so you take a corner seat away from everyone else.

Adjusting your hold on your brother again you try to make sure he’s comfortable in your lap. His face is red and he’s sweating which tells you his fever hasn’t budged. None of the cold medicine you’ve tried giving him has worked. You’re careful with how you hold his back because if anything the rash he has there has probably only gotten worse. None of the creams you tried worked on that either.

Gently cradling his head to your chest, you brush a finger along his cheek hoping to soothe him. The few scales along his cheeks, the obvious signs he’s a mutant and the main reason your parents keep him hidden away, seem more pronounced now. He’s lost some weight due to his lack of appetite ever since he became ill two months ago. You feel yourself tearing up at everything that’s happened these past two months. But now is not the time for you to break down especially not in front of strangers, so you wipe your tears with your sleeve and continue waiting for the bus.

By the time the bus arrives your brother’s fever has worsened, and his heavy breathing makes your heart ache. If you were at home, you’d be giving him an ice bath right now. They help a little, at least, you think they do because he’s at least able to sleep better after you give him one. But you can’t give him one here. You just have to hope that someone at Xavier’s will be able to help him.

During the ride there, the storm gets even worse. The sound of the rain beating against the bus increases and the lightning and thunder becomes more frequent. This really isn’t weather either of you should be out in. Twice you’re sure one of the other passengers is about to come over and say something to you, but something on their end keeps them in their seats. It’s better that way. You don’t need anyone else making things more complicated. You just want your brother to get better and no one is going to stop you from making that happen.

By the time you reach the bus stop near Xavier’s you and your brother are the only passengers left. You’ve long since taken off your jacket and wrapped it around your brother. You don’t want the terrible storm outside to make things worse. Left with only the T-shirt and pants you’re wearing you put on the backpack with your brother’s things you brought with you and rush off the bus before the bus driver can say anything to you. You can tell he’s been eyeing you in the rear-view mirror since you got on.

The cold rain pelts you as you begin walking to the front gate. You’re completely drenched from your head down to the socks in your shoes within thirty seconds. You check on your brother to ensure he’s completely covered and hurry along the side walk.

You have to wipe your eyes several times to make sure you’re still going the right way. You won’t let anything stop you. Not even the ominously close thunder and lightning that lights up the sky and ground before producing a sound so loud you fear it’s right next to you. You have to make it to the door you tell yourself. You have to at least get there and knock so someone can help your brother. This is for him. All for him. You keep pushing forward even though your clothes weigh you down and the rain has begun to sting your skin with how hard its pouring. This is nothing compared to how your brother must be feeling you tell yourself. You can do this for him. This is nothing.

You reach the steps to the door and drag your legs up them. You have to knock now and then someone will help. Just knock and everything will be okay. Coming underneath the cover above the front door makes the sound of the rain lessen and you’re not sure if the water falling from your eyes is only the rain.

Reaching out with one hand you knock as loudly as you can hoping that someone inside will hurry to the door. Your brother hasn’t opened his eyes to look at you since this morning when you both needed to switch buses and you tried to get him to eat something. You tried to convince yourself that things will still be okay but, you’re scared that with the way he seems to be gasping for air right now you won’t ever see him do so again.

With more urgency you knock again intending not to let up until this door is opened. You resolve right then and there that even if your knuckles bleed you’ll keep knocking. Someone has to help him. They have to.

Finally, the door swings open and the man who opens the door freezes. He seemed to have been ready to say something but instead he stands there looking at you with something between surprise and confusion. Perhaps with a little concern as well, but you don’t have time to be sizing people up right now.

“Please sir! My brother is very sick. He needs help!” You explain trying to get through this process as quick as possible, so your brother can get help.

“This ain’t a hospital kid.” The man responds.

“I know that! Please, this is Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters right? My brother is a mutant and he needs help. Please!” You beg him to let you in.

The flash of lighting and loud clap of thunder that follow your pleas halts the conversation. The man at the door glances behind you and then back at you and your brother before sighing and moving out of the way to let you in.

“Thank you” you tell him as you step inside. Water inevitably trails behind you and you begin to form a puddle where you come to a stop. The man closes the door behind you and turns to you.

“How long have you been out in that?” The guy questions taking note of your appearance now that he has better lighting.

“A while… but that’s not important. Please my brother needs help!” You repeat hoping he’ll help.

“Ok calm down kid. What’s wrong with him?” He asks.

“He’s been sick for two months now. None of the medicine I give him works.” You explain as you carefully adjust your brother and peel away a few layers, so the man can see his face.

The guy’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of him. “Why didn’t you take him to a hospital? Better yet why didn’t your parents?” he questions taking a couple of steps forward to get a better look at him.

“They don’t care! Please can you help him? Or can someone else here take a look at him. I-I don’t know what to do anymore.” You try your best to keep it together but as the last sentence comes out you feel your eyes watering.

“Ok. Just… calm down.” The guy says as he rakes a hand through his hair. “I’ll call someone ok.” He tries to reassure.

You sniff and try to get yourself together just as others come up to the two of you.

“I guess it wasn’t your imagination.” One of them, a guy with brown hair and dark glasses, says.

“Are you making a little kid cry again Logan?” Asks a woman with beautiful red hair.

“And who are you?” A bald man in a wheelchair asks speaking to you.

You don’t have time for introductions with these people. “Please I just need someone who can help my brother. I don’t have time for names!” You yell frustrated that you made it here but have yet to have anyone help your brother.

The three newcomers go silent and turn their attention to the small body in your arms as you turn revealing him to them. Then all of a sudden things are happening. The bald man says he’ll tell someone named Hank to head to the medical room and you’re being guided that way by the man with dark glasses and woman with red hair. She asks you a few questions as you all are walking. Again, you explain that he’s been sick for two months and none of the medicine you’ve given him is working. When you tell them, your parents don’t care and that you came here yourself they all exchange looks behind you. You tell them you’re almost certain this is something to do with his mutation and that’s why you came here.

Once you’re at medical you meet some one else, Dr. Hank McCoy, and you finally sigh in relief because it seems your brother is finally going to be looked at. Reluctantly, you let the doctor take him out of your arms. Doing so leaves you feeling empty. You refuse to leave your brother’s side as the doctor and the woman begin to examine him. You’ve come this far you’re not going to leave him. Promising to stay out of the way they let you stay so they can work.

Occasionally they ask you something about his condition. Like how long has he had the rash on his back? Six weeks. What about the fever? Since he got sick two months ago. Is he allergic to anything? Not that you know of. When was the last time he ate? Nothing solid in the last five weeks and he only had a few sips of the soup you tried to give him this morning.

They thank you and continue to focus on your brother. You try not to worry as they hook him up to an IV and heart monitor as well as inject him with something. Whatever they give him seems to help immediately as he stops breathing so heavy.

You don’t even realize you’ve started crying until the guy with dark glasses from before puts a tissue box in front of you. You nod your thanks and take it from him. Briefly, you glance behind you and realize the guy who answered the door, Logan, if you remember correctly and the man in the wheelchair are still in the room as well although they’re closer to the door.

By your fourth tissue (You’re a mess. You thought your brother was going to die.) the doctor turns to you. He wipes his hands and comes towards you.

“He’s stable. His fever should break within the hour. You can stay with him if you want but I suggest you get cleaned up first. You wouldn’t want your brother to wake up and find you’re sick as well would you?”

It’s only as he finishes speaking that you realize you’re still drenched from the trip there.

You sniff and reply, “Yeah.” Your eyes don’t move from the frail form of your little brother resting on the bed as you answer.

Someone puts a hand on your shoulder and you’re being guided back out of the room. You go through the motions of taking a shower in the bathroom they guided you towards. Get dressed in the clothes they said you can borrow. Someone took your bag somewhere along the way. You’ll have to remember to ask for it back but all you can think about is the sight of your brother laying in bed looking as fragile as glass. Face still red from his fever. Thinner than a four-year-old should ever be.

You hurry back to him once you leave the bathroom. Ignoring your lack of shoes or socks. There was someone waiting for you and they might have said something to you, but you just need to get back to your brother.

Once you’re back in the medical room you waste no time going up to your brother’s side. There are others in the room, but you block them out. At his bedside you tentatively reach out with a single finger and trace the little patch of scales along one of his cheeks. His eyes flutter making your heart skip a beat, but they don’t open.

You feel numb.

You’re here now.

You got your brother to people who can help and now he’s getting the help he needs.

Now what? Wait?

Then that’s what you’ll do. However long it takes.

You grab the nearest chair and pull it up to his bedside. Unceremoniously plopping down and reaching for his tiny hand. So small compared to yours. You’re only ten years older than him and yet there’s such a big difference between the two of you. You find yourself getting lost in your memories of him. Of his short life. Your heart clenches at the thought that if you hadn’t done anything you’d only have those few short years of memories with him.

A hand on your shoulder brings you out of your thoughts. You turn your head a bit to show you’re listening but otherwise remain focused on your brother. It’s the man in the wheelchair who speaks to you this time.

“I’m professor Xavier. I can tell the two of you are close and you’ve been through a lot just getting here. Feel free to spend the night in here with him. But if you want there is a room three doors down from this one that you can sleep in. I’ll come by in the morning and we can talk then.” With that said the professor wheels away and you’re left alone with your brother for the meantime.

As time passes your brother’s fever breaks and his eyes open briefly as he complains about his back. You help to adjust him as the doctor applies something to his back and let him rest on his side. He peacefully falls back asleep and you stroke his hair while humming one of his favorite nursery rhymes.

You were right in coming here. He’s getting help. He’ll be okay you tell yourself as you feel your own eyelids getting heavy. When you wake up you know you’ll have some explaining to do but for now you’ll just rest knowing your brother will be okay.


End file.
